


This Ducking Autocorrect

by chucklingChemist



Category: Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Borrows Some Aspects From The Miniseries, Comedy, Let Anthony Crowley Say Fuck, M/M, Outdated Text Language, book canon, ineffable husbands
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-23
Updated: 2020-06-23
Packaged: 2021-03-03 22:48:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,048
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24883342
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chucklingChemist/pseuds/chucklingChemist
Summary: There are few as ingenious as Crowley when it comes to creative wiles to drive the masses down to Hell. Said genius tends to also get him in just a bit of trouble when it comes around to affect him. This certainly wasn't one of the first times, nor even the worst, but possibly the most personally embarrassing.Fill for the "Poo Poo Head" prompt for Banned Together Bingo 2020
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Comments: 12
Kudos: 24
Collections: Banned Together Bingo 2020





	This Ducking Autocorrect

**Author's Note:**

> This is inspired by a Tumblr post about Crowley, with his propensity to create things that bite him back, invented autocorrect. I wish I had that post but I wasn't even the one who found it (my roommate did instead and didn't send it to me) but if I find it, or if someone links it over to me I'll be sure to link it here. 
> 
> Anyway, enjoy!

The year is 2007. Doctor Who had been back for two years and now even had a spin off. Daniel Craig was the new James Bond, sparking discussion of a blonde man could become a Bond. The bird flu came and went. Last year had the hottest heat wave on record. Humanity’s technology was starting to boom. Everything was the usual level of wonderful and awful and normal and chaotic. 

The threat of the Antichrist had been taken care of years ago. Aziraphale and Crowley both had their respective summons back to their superior’s center of operations and thoroughly tricked the both of them into being left perfectly alone to do whatever they wanted, however they wanted. Their Arrangement continued on: Crowley created wiles, and Aziraphale thwarted them. Or as it had been for far too long a time, Crowley created minor nuisances that led thousands of people into performing sins so minute they wouldn’t be deemed sins until they were already in Hell, and Aziraphale brought people back to the light with his general kindness and demeanor. 

And when it came to minor temptations and nuisances, Crowley had a deep feeling in his gut he struck gold with this up and coming iPhone. 

It’s the first of its kind. A phone, but also a music player. A mini computer. No stylus necessary. Created by a company already capable of inspiring cult-like feverence in its loyal customers if the debate of Mac vs PC is any indication.

Crowley stumbling upon the iPhone several months back wasn’t wholly by accident -- with said technological boom, he had to make far more of a concerted effort to stay on the newest and flashiest equipment available to the market. It was enough of an effort that, for a solid time around 2003 when he had enough hearing about the upcoming war Britain decided to join the United States in, he debated with himself for a solid month whether or not it would end up becoming easier to be like Aziraphale: pick a decade and never age past it.  _ Aziraphale  _ certainly seemed content.

When he was able to take Aziraphale to the theater to watch  _ Return of the King _ (Aziraphale swearing before and after the film to have known Tolkien himself), the “technology is good, actually” side won out.

So his drive to stay on the top of the technology market resulted in him traveling down to Silicon Valley for an extended vacation that turned into Crowley ending up on the development team and given a free one to “promote the Apple iPhone” right around release date. He didn’t even  _ need  _ to adjust anything about it. His time spent in the company proved this phone would send more people to Hell than a squadron of the denizens of Hell. 

That’s not to say he didn’t add some truly demonic touches. He wouldn’t consider it striking gold if he didn’t, after all. In fact, Crowley found himself responsible for one of his personal favorite aspects of the iPhone. As the development team brought up concerns typing without a way to physically feel a keyboard, it might turn customer’s off from texting. Or worse, make the texts too incomprehensible. To say nothing of the embarrassment of sending  _ ar e you availble for teh meeting @ 2 p.n _ to your coworker or boss.

Crowley wasn’t the one who brought up the concept of autocorrect necessarily. Autocorrect itself wasn’t going to cause problems -- at least, the same foresight that told him “make the M25 shaped like a demonic sigil, what’s the worst that could happen?” told him -- but a small adjustment to the system could. Without much push from the team, Crowley convinced them to incorporate a system to automatically correct all swear words to their safe for work, kid friendly version. The development team, apparently anticipating this phone would either end up being popular with kids or with employees desperately attempting to censor themselves to their boss, decided it was a fantastic idea. A few weeks later and it was completely implemented into their autocorrect system.

To be frank, by the time it was finished and Crowley got to look at it, it didn’t even look like something he imagined. Rather, this looked like something Aziraphale would create. If the angel knew Crowley suggested such a thing, he’d insist the snake is going soft in his old age.  _ This isn’t going to harm anyone _ , he could hear him insist.  _ The other developers are right, dear, this will only save the trouble of accidentally sending sordid messages to your boss _ .

By the time the iPhone came out, he couldn’t imagine the level of outrage his small addition ended up causing. Fluff news pieces about the goofiness of the autocorrect system, as well as its anti-swear word system, came out in droves and he watched each one with glee. Websites popped up lamenting their inability to swear and recounted their tales with screenshot after screenshot of their iPhone changing their passionate expletive with excited announcements of ducks. Crowley hadn’t felt this invigorated since he tied up the phone lines so badly in London during the days of DSL it caused an Internet outage of the whole city.

Now, did Crowley also have an iPhone? Of course. He was the flash bastard. The purpose of going to Silicon Valley was to discover what’s new, and the iPhone was just that. Did that mean he used it to text people?

No.

Not for a while, at any rate. The only friend he kept in close contact with was Aziraphale. Aziraphale, who still carried an old rotary phone from the 1970s. He doubted Aziraphale would end up getting a mobile phone until at least the late 2010s (if they were lucky), and at best it would be a flip phone from 2003. And anyone else? Was he in contact with anyone? Not that Crowley could remember.

Still, a lack of people to text didn’t remove an ounce of enjoyment from the phone. He installed a ridiculous number of apps, all silly and stupid, that took up most of his memory. Whatever remaining space was taken up with pictures of his time with Aziraphale. Just in case something happened.

Before he even knew it, it was 2008. The phone continued to update and develop, but the problems with autocorrect’s self-censoring system was not one of the fixes. People continued to outrage over a phone telling them not to swear, and Crowley, when he wasn’t enamored with the newest app, continued to revel over them. 

One app in particular, a simple rhythm game set to pop music called Tap Tap, struck his fancy. It was fun to play while he waited for Aziraphale to finish getting ready, or just loud enough in theaters still playing trailers to annoy other patrons. (Crowley would never play once the movie started proper. He was a demon, not a maniac.) Most interestingly, while he expected any music uploaded onto his iPhone to turn into  _ The Best of Queen _ , the music selection of Tap Tap also turned exclusively into an impressive selection of Queen’s discography simply from bringing his phone in his car. 

“Look, Angel, you’ve got to check this out,” Crowley said, pushing his phone up Aziraphale’s face. It was a slow night. Too hot and uncomfortable for them to get completely plastered -- although they were undoubtedly tipsy -- but their movie ended hours ago and Aziraphale wasn’t yet ready to push Crowley out of the Aziraphale’s lap. “Can you believe even 3rd party apps with music turn it into Queen if it sits in my phone?”

Aziraphale blinked owlishly. “Dear, I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

Crowley groaned. “This game! This  _ Tap Tap _ game! Look, this song here--” he scrolled through the song selection, not stopping until he found one titled  _ Don’t Trust Me _ “-- just listen when I play it, okay?”

The song started up, and sure enough it started up with a rousing, speedy rendition of 3OH!3’s  _ Bicycle Race _ . Crowley, in turn, tried to keep up to the rhythm of the song but found in an inebriated state it was shockingly difficult. His fingers ended up tapping far higher or far lower than the intended target. Crowley’s face contorted in annoyance. At least Aziraphale couldn’t see him fail. 

Midway through the song, the app abruptly shut itself off with a bright chime. A blessing, really. He wouldn’t have to continue failing in front of the only person too polite to act like he’s not failing. “Oh damn it, I guess I have a text,” Crowley muttered. “Okay, okay hold on Angel I guess someone’s texting me for once.”

**Hey Crowley guess who’s got a phone now?**

Crowley frowned, head tilting up to better look up at Aziraphale. “Who do we know that would be getting a mobile?”

Aziraphale bit his lip. “Why, I have no idea. That sounds like the type of question I would ask you to be honest. Though, perhaps….” he paused, staring off into space “...Newt and Anathema? I could imagine the two of them indulging with this iPhone business.”

“No no. I’ve been to their house. Newt would break one of these things the second he tried to install it.” He shook his head. “No, let me just ask. That’ll be easier than breaking my head thinking.”

_ Who the heck are you _ .

Crowley hit send, not even realizing it fixed his “hell” to “heck”. 

**Aww man do I really seem that different now that I’m a high school grad? LOL that’s fine I guess. It’s Adam! You know from Tadfield**

Crowley bolted upright, causing a gasp from Aziraphale from the sudden loss of pressure. “It’s Adam! Oh sweet Jes...Sat….someone I forgot he’s not a kid anymore!” He quickly found himself curling up next to Aziraphale to show him the messages. “Look at this! It’s our boy!”

_ You ducking poo-poo head! Why didn’t you say something? How’d you get this number? _

“Excuse me dear, did you really just say ‘poo-poo head’?” Aziraphale asked.

“Did I what?” Crowley shook his head vigorously. “No, no I put shithead. See I--”

Cold, clammy fear overtook Crowley’s soul.  _ Oh no _ .

_ Oh poop did I say ducking poo-poo head? I meant poo-poo head* _

_ Poo-poo head*  _

_ Poo-poo head!* _

_ DUCK!* _

**ROTFL having problems with autocorrect? :P**

Crowley shifted uncomfortably on the sofa, feeling himself only sink further. “So…” he said, “do you remember when I said I worked with the Apple development company for this phone?”

_ What does it look like I’m ducking having?  _

**LOL I’m sorry man. Have you tried turning it off?**

“I remember,” Aziraphale said. He could see the amused smile beginning to form on his angel’s face and he was  _ not _ here for it. “You said you assisted with the autocorrect system. I remember you were incredibly proud of it.”

“I was! It was amazing! I didn’t think it would be like--” he gestured, if one could call flailing frantically toward his phone a mere gesture “--like  _ this _ !”

_ How the duck do you turn this ducking thing off you tell me right now. _

**I’m not sure how well I can do that without being in the room with you. Here let me find an online article.**

“Crowley,” Aziraphale placed a comforting hand on the demon’s side, “did you do that thing where you think whatever wile you create cannot possibly affect you?”

“Of course not!” Crowley shouted indignantly. “I am smarter than some ducking-- oh  _ damn it all to --! _ ”

“To…?”

“To sssssssomewhere, Aziraphale! Ssssomewhere! I don’t even ducking care anymore!”

His phone chimed once again, the chirp loud enough he nearly dropped his phone in sheer surprise. “Is that Adam?” Aziraphale asked. 

Crowley scowled. “Of coursssssse it is. It’s probably just him making fun of --”

**Here’s the link. Sorry for the wait. Hope it saves your life LOL**

The anger bubbling into him immediately dissipated. The Antichrist managed to save his skin. Again. “--Oh. No it’sssss the link.” Crowley managed to sink even further into the couch. “I’ll deal with it tomorrow. Now I’m taking a nap.”

Aziraphale chuckled. Crowley watched long enough to watch him pull a book out of seemingly nowhere before he returned to using his angel as a pillow. “Whatever you say, dear. Whatever you  _ ducking _ say.”

**Author's Note:**

> To any GO fans enjoying this and hoping I've written other Good Omens works I....haven't. Yet. I don't know if that'll change in the future. But for now, it's mostly just fantrolls and one (1) Twilight fic.
> 
> Though if you enjoy my mad ramblings, may I recommend my [Tumblr](chuckling-chemist.tumblr.com) or [Twitter](https://twitter.com/stormscourge)? I'm currently live-tweeting my first playthrough of Persona 4 Golden and sometimes talking politics.


End file.
